


there's an art to life's distractions

by chillwhiskey (payneclinic)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Epikegster, Kent Parson and affection is my otp, M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, kvp calls the shots, nursey and dex are flustered and adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payneclinic/pseuds/chillwhiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent realizes he’s going to have to step up and call the shots here. He’s fine - he’s a playmaker, he can do that. If he can center a Stanley Cup-winning first line, he can certainly center a goddamn threesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's an art to life's distractions

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr @chillwhiskey!!!

Kent’s pissed. Or, well, maybe pissed isn’t the right word. Heartbroken. Rejected. Devastated. Hurt. All of those things and a million more. Whatever, it’s fine. He’s fine. He was fine before he got to this stupid party and he’s fine now. He’s the captain of a fucking NHL team. He won the Stanley fucking Cup. He doesn’t need anyone but his team, his mom, and his cat. He’s fucking _fine_. He adjusts his cap and straightens his spine as he walks down the stairs, ready to blow off this party and head – _shit._ He can’t head home, _home_ is a fucking seven hour flight away. And he didn’t book a hotel room, because his dumb ass hadn’t even _thought_ of anything going awry in the plan. Typical Kent.

_Good players adjust_ , he tells himself, repeating the words that his mini-mite coach ingrained in him. He’s a good player – no, fuck that, he’s the _best player_ – he can adjust. He pulls out his phone, and manages to get a flight out at noon tomorrow. Now he just needs to figure out sleeping arrangements until then. He takes a quick scan of the room, and his eyes immediately land on that hot guy he was chatting up before – _before_. The dude – _Derek_ , he remembers, because he’s not a douche, no matter what Deadspin says – had clearly been into it, Kent doesn’t think he’ll have any trouble crashing with him tonight. He can still end this night on a win. Kent sets his jaw and makes his way towards Derek, eyes on the prize.

“Hey there,” he says, easy, as he walks up to Derek. It takes a second for Derek to respond, and Kent has a burst of panic where he thinks he’s going to be rejected _twice_ in one fucking night.

“Hi, Kent,” Derek smiles, small and a little bashful. God, he’s so pretty. Kent’s getting flustered already.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” He asks. He feels like a dumb high-schooler, trying to flirt with Derek, but he doesn’t really have any _moves_. He doesn’t do this often – almost never, actually.

“It’s, um, it’s going well,” Derek nods. Kent doesn’t know how to further this conversation, but for the second time tonight he’s saved by the pretty redhead – Dex.

“Hey, Nursey, do you remember where – _oh_ ,” he stutters to a stop right in front of Kent and Derek, eyes flicking between them rapid-fire.

“Dex,” Kent nods in greeting. Dex’s cheeks immediately go pink.

“Kent Parson,” Dex breathes.

“Just Kent,” he smiles, “Or Parse. Or Parser. That’s usually just on the ice, though.”

“Will,” Dex says. Kent doesn’t understand, and his face has probably betrayed him, but Derek helps him out.

“Dex’s name is Will, we just call him Dex. They call me Nursey,” he explains.

“Dex and Nursey,” Kent hums, “Will and Derek. Which do you prefer?”

“Anything,” they both answer at the same time. Kent’s endeared as shit, especially when they both look down out of embarrassment.

“You two are cute as fuck, you know that right?” He blurts out.

“Just cute?” Derek asks, looking more than a little coy. Kent isn’t completely hopeless, he can recognize when he’s being flirted with. He just doesn’t know if these boys are a package deal. It’s not what he had planned – not even _close_ to what he had planned – but, again, good players adjust. He can _definitely_ adjust.

“Fucking sexy,” he corrects. Will has officially gone beet red. Derek is grinning widely at him. Kent is loving it.

“Dex, d-man conference,” Derek announces, pulling Will to the side of the kitchen. Kent is a little worried, but for the most part he understands. These dudes probably aren’t together – probably haven’t ever hooked up. He doesn’t want to fuck up their d-pair chemistry or whatever. That shit’s sacred.

When they both come back to him, Derek is smirking and Will has the same look on his face that Swoops gets before a faceoff. It’s kind of weirdly hot. Surprisingly, Will is the one who takes his hand and tugs him out of the house. It’s about a five minute walk to the dorm, and it’s not nearly as awkward as Kent would’ve thought. They don’t talk, but Will keeps a firm grip on his hand while Derek slides an arm around his middle. They must look weird, but it feels nice to be bracketed between them, both a little taller than him.

When they’re finally inside one of their dorm rooms – Derek’s, he’s pretty sure – Kent fucking goes for it. One hand still tangled up in Will’s, he uses the other to pull Derek down into a kiss that gets dirty quick. There’s a moan to Kent’s left, and Kent wonders if Will is getting off on him and Derek kissing, or if Derek got a hand on Will.

His question is answered seconds later, when Derek stops kissing him and Kent looks down to see Derek’s hands unbuttoning Will’s jeans. Will is already moaning for it, which is fucking awesome. Kent loves when he can tell just how much the other person is into it, and if Derek’s kisses and Will’s noises are anything to go by, they’re both _really_ into it.

Will drops his hand, but it’s okay because then that hand is in his hair, pulling him into a kiss that’s more of a claim than an exchange. Kent forgets where he is for a second, lost in the feeling of Will’s mouth on his.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot,” Derek moans, and then his hands are on Kent, unbuttoning and tugging down his jeans.

Kent pulls off of Will to say, “There should be less clothes here,” which, admittedly, is not his _best_ line, but it gets the job done. Kent has to take a second once Will and Derek have their clothes off, because _damn_. They’re so different – Will’s pale skin and freckles contrasting with Derek’s dark complexion and smattering of chest hair – but they’re both so fucking attractive, and Kent wants them both so bad. They stand there for a second, everyone seemingly unsure of what to do next. Kent realizes he’s going to have to step up and call the shots here. He’s fine - he’s a playmaker, he can do that. If he can center a Stanley Cup-winning first line, he can certainly center a goddamn threesome. Good players adjust.

He considers his options for a half-second before deciding on a plan. “You,” he says, pointing at Will, “are going to fuck me, and you,” he turns to Derek, “are going to fuck my mouth.” Both boys take a sharp breath in at that.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Derek moans, at the same time as Will grinds out a “ _Yes_.”

“Lube and condoms?” Kent asks them. Will shoots a look at Derek, who flings open a drawer and produces both. “Cool,” he nods, then pushes Will down on the bed.

He scrambles on top of him immediately, getting his hands in his hair and pulling him up into a kiss. Will is right there with him, kissing back and shamelessly groping his ass. Kent feels Derek’s presence behind him, and he’s about to tell him to _get to it_ , but apparently that’s unnecessary, because all of the sudden Will is holding him open and Derek’s circling a slick finger around his rim. Kent lets out a moan at that – he can’t help it, loving the way that they’re both so focused on him.

Somewhere around the time Derek switches to two fingers, Will moves his mouth to Kent’s neck. Kent’s openly moaning at this point, rocking back and forth between Derek’s fingers and grinding against Will’s abs. It’s not a bad place to be, but it’s not how he wants this to end, and he needs this process to speed up _right now_.

“Another,” he orders, smiling at how quick Derek is to comply. Will’s moved to his collarbones, now, biting and sucking and _definitely_ leaving marks. Kent is on edge and wound up in the best of ways, and he can’t help the way he moans out, “ _Fuck me_ ,” when Derek angles his fingers just right.

Almost immediately, Derek’s pulling his fingers out and reaching around Kent for a condom. Kent gets up to his hands and knees, giving Will a little more room to move so he can glove up as well, and the next time he looks up, they’ve switched positions so Will is behind him and Derek is sitting back on his heels right in front of Kent.

Derek leans down to kiss him just as Will starts to push in, and the frantic way Derek bites at his lips is the perfect counterpoint to Will’s slow, easy thrust in. Will pauses once he’s all the way in, and Kent has to pull away from Derek to tell him to move. Will takes direction _beautifully_ , starting up a slow, sweet rhythm that has Kent seeing stars already. He closes his eyes for half a second, opening them immediately when he remembers Derek in front of him. Derek is still sitting on his heels, patient, and Kent thinks he deserves a reward for that. When he gets his mouth on Derek, he’s immediately got two hands in his hair, tugging a little.

Will has started up a stream of words that Kent can’t quite focus on, but the rasp in his voice and the way every syllable sounds like it’s being punched out of him is such a turn on. Derek’s just as loud, moaning and praising Kent like he’s the greatest thing that ever happened to him. All of this love and attention and focus is getting him there _quick_. He doubts he’ll even need a hand on him to come.

“Babe, Kent, _shit_ ,” Derek’s saying, murmuring words as he watches Kent swallow him down. He’s not exactly fucking Kent’s mouth, but his hips are rocking incrementally, like he can’t help it. “Fuck, Kent, you’re so hot. Can’t believe this. Fucking amazing.”

Will makes an affirming noise from behind him, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust, and Kent moans around Derek’s dick. They’ve started to move in tandem, now, keeping Kent rocking back onto Will and forward onto Derek. It’s perfect, and it’s even better when Derek’s sentences start trailing off into moans, like he can’t even talk anymore.

“I – oh, shit, Kent, _fuck_ ,” he pants, hands tugging a little harder on Kent’s hair, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.”

Kent doesn’t pull off. Instead he goes harder, moving faster and curling his tongue the way most guys like it until Derek is practically _sobbing_ above him. Kent feels Derek pulsing in his mouth as he comes into the condom, and it’s enough to make him moan again. Derek pulls him off, tugging off the condom and tying it before throwing it in the general direction of a trash can.

Before Kent can even think, he’s being pulled up so that his back is flush against Will’s chest. Will’s thrusts are becoming erratic, like he’s going to lose it soon. He starts sucking on Kent’s neck, right on the sensitive part under his ear, and Kent feels like he’s so close _anything_ could tip him over the edge. That _anything_ happens to be Derek’s hand, stroking him a handful of times before his orgasm hits him like a truck.

“Derek, _fuck_ , shit, Will – holy _shit_ ,” he groans. Everything goes a little fuzzy for a few seconds, and when he gains back his awareness of his surroundings, Will is grinding into him and coming with a low moan.

“Oh my god,” Derek says weakly, collapsing on his back on the bed. Kent can’t tamp down on the little whimper that escapes him when Will pulls out, but Will’s lips kissing the back of his neck helps. Will gets rid of the condom and grabs a washcloth from his bedside table to wipe them all down.

Once they’ve done the perfunctory clean-up, Kent curls into Derek’s side, humming happily as Will settles in behind him.

“I just had a three-way with my d-man partner and a Stanley Cup champion,” Will says, then, “Are we all sure this isn’t a dream?”

“I dunno, it’d be a pretty weird dream for me to have,” Kent shrugs.

“What, you don’t dream about having threesomes with college boys?” Derek teases.

“After tonight, I probably will,” he laughs, “You boys make a good team.”

“That’s what they tell us,” Will sighs. Kent guesses there’s something behind that, but it’s nothing he needs to touch. He’ll be gone in the morning, after all.

“Hey, I’m gonna need to get up early for my flight tomorrow,” Kent tells them, “so if I need to sneak out before you guys get up: it was fun, and you should _definitely_ call me if you ever happen to be in Vegas.” He leans over Derek and grabs both of their phones from the bedside table, putting his number in both of them.

“ _’It was fun_ ,’ he says,” Derek chirps.

“I mean, it _was_ fun,” Will laughs.

“This is why I don’t dream of hooking up with college boys – terrible chirps,” Kent groans, but it’s all for show. His eyelids are feeling heavy, so he makes sure his alarm is set and helps Derek get the covers over all of them before dropping off into sleep. It wasn’t the night he was expecting to have, but he salvaged it into something pretty fucking awesome. Good players adjust, and Kent’s a good player – a _great_ player. He’ll be just fine.


End file.
